


Patience

by Drazyrohk



Series: Stupid Sexy Robots [1]
Category: Transformers, Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Optimus, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodimus never really did have the best timing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this takes place sometime during the Death of Optimus Prime. It's a little plot bunny that bit me sometime the other day and I've decided to actually share it with you all! It's my first sticky Transformers fic... might not be my last.

There was a lesson in this somewhere. Something involving how even mechs with good sparks became depraved when they were at war long enough. Maybe a quip about how old habits die hard. 

Rodimus had imagined this moment many times, many of these imaginings accompanying a lube slicked servo on his spike and a few fingers stuffed into his valve. He had expected it to go two ways; either it would be soft and romantic and he would be taught and guided, or he would take charge and be the one doing the teaching with his own Rodimus flare. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard. Maybe he should have reigned in his own temper. He couldn’t really blame himself, or anyone else... it had been a long, rough day. 

His timing could have been better.

He had never imagined the anger however, never expected to be forced face down on a dusty, wobbling desk. He hadn’t figured two digits being shoved into his mouth to be sucked and moistened before they began scissoring and thrusting within him into the daydreams. He had never expected the large, very eager spike rubbing persistantly against his aft as he was roughly prepared. 

Rodimus wasn’t sure if this was exceeding his expectations, or shattering them into a million tiny painful pieces. 

“You always were an arrogant, entitled little brat.” The deep, furious voice of Orion Pax growled behind him. “Why the Matrix chose someone like you, I’ll never understand Hot Rod.”

“It’s Rodimus now.” The younger Prime’s legs were kicked further apart, the digits were wrenched from his valve and he hissed between clenched denta. “Hot Rod was the kid you denied all those years ago.” 

“My apologies.” There was something savage in that voice, and it became a groan as Orion lined himself up and pushed in, the way eased by his previous actions. 

By Primus, he was big. Bigger than Rodimus had been prepared for. He whined, one of Pax’s hands closing over the back of his neck and squeezing.

“You wanted this.” Orion said firmly, drawing out fully before bringing his hips forward and working his way back in. Rodimus spread his legs further, pushed his hips back and bit down on his own hand to silence himself. “Take it all.” This was rumbled close to his audial, and he stifled a whimper. 

Every time Rodimus thought Orion couldn’t possibly go further, there was more of him to take in. By the time Orion’s hips were pressed into his own fully, Rodimus felt about ready to burst. 

“A surprisingly tight fit.” Orion panted. “I expected you to be a bit more used, taking your easy going airs into consideration.” 

His pace was unhurried and entirely self gratifying. He didn’t care that each thrust rubbed nodes until they felt raw. He didn’t care that he was pushing Rodimus into the desk so hard. He wanted what was best for himself. 

“I d-don’t usually give myself to o-others like this.” Rodimus said with difficulty. His frame burned with charge. His valve, filled to the brim and stretched around Orion’s spike tightly, was throbbing in time with his spark. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Orion’s tone was taunting. His pace grew faster, harder, and Rodimus clung to the desk for dear life. “Didn’t you want to be spread for me like this? Didn’t you want me to frag you like you were mine? Like you meant something to me?!”

“YES!” Rodimus snarled, struggling briefly in Orion’s grip. He was pushed into the desk again, and he pushed his hips back so that Orion had better access. “I’ve been aching for you since we first met! It’s about time you stopped denying yourself and took me!” 

Orion grunted, hooking two fingers into a seam on Rodimus’ hip before pulling him closer. Bracing against the desk with his free hand, he began slamming into the flame colored frame he loomed over. 

Rodimus’ arms were trembling and mostly useless, his chest digging into the desk top. He slid his legs apart a little more, vents hissing to try and cool him down. 

Orion was making the most incredible, delicious noises. His deep voice groaning, vents hitching, their hips clanging rapidly together, swollen spike squelching in and out of eager valve... Orion’s hand moved from his hip and braced on the desk with the other. He enveloped Rodimus’ frame, parted his own legs to get better leverage. 

Rodimus was crying out wordlessly now, being pounded into the desk. It slammed against the wall with each hard thrust, and pleasure soared to heights that bordered on pain. 

“I should have... done this... millennia ago.” Orion said. “I should have taken you when you came begging!” Mouth open, voice box full of static, Rodimus pressed back against the larger frame. “I was your Prime!” Orion continued, voice becoming choked. “You always belonged to me!” 

Rodimus’ fans squealed and his vents began struggling as he was crushed into the surface of the desk. Orion’s broad chestplates were pressed into his back, his spoiler, and one arm wound around his waist. He felt his feet nearly leave the floor as Orion clutched Rodimus to himself so tightly, he had hardly any room for thrusting. Grinding his hips forward, spike rubbing Rodimus’ deepest nodes until they burned, Orion growled. 

“I should have put you in your place.” He said against the smaller mech’s audial. Rodimus’ HUD was full of warnings that he ignored as his charge ramped up into the red. His thighs were trembling and each sharp buck of Orion’s hips made a frantic sound escape him. “You’re still just a child chasing an impossible dream, trying to be something he was never meant to be.” 

Static bloomed in his vision and Rodimus came with a scream. His valve clenched rhythmically and lubricant gushed down his legs. His frame rattled against Orion’s, and even through the haze, Rodimus could hear the larger mech clenching his denta so hard his jaw creaked. The spike within him began jerking and heat bloomed. Groaning again, Orion gripped Rodimus tight and moved his hips weakly to coax everything he could from his overload. 

“A-always was one to... learn b-better from hard lessons.” Rodimus said when the haze lifted. 

Orion was silent but for his howling cooling fans and his quick venting. He had his optics offline. His grip hadn’t lessened. Rodimus remained still, fighting the urge to clamp his valve down around the still twitching obstruction within it. 

“I’m sorry.” Orion eventually breathed, arms loosening but hands still clenched. 

“I... don’t think you need to apologize.” Rodimus muttered. “I might be the one who needs to do that.”

“I can’t make any excuses for my actions.” Orion continued. He slowly released Rodimus and began to pull free, vents hitching again. “I behaved very poorly just now.” 

“I’m not sorry. Not sorry I pushed you.” Rodimus admitted. His whole frame was going to ache for the next week. He was sure his valve was going to ache for longer than that. “I wanted you.” 

“And were you pleased with what you got?” Orion asked, his voice now sounding small and guilty. 

“What do you think?” Rodimus asked without looking at the larger mech. 

“Never again, Rodimus.” Orion had brought a cloth from his subspace and was wiping the result of their coupling from his frame. “I should never have done this.” 

“You say that now.” Rodimus glanced over his shoulder and managed a very Rodimus grin. “I’m patient... I’ll wait for you to change your mind again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For redconvoy! Thanks for feeding the bunnies.

Optimus Prime was not a hard mech to read. His face was articulate and his EM field was open, so it wasn’t hard to tell what he was feeling. No one expressed their disappointment and disapproval as well as Optimus could. He had this look...

The one he was currently wearing. That look. That was the look.

“You broke the Matrix?” It was about the fifth time the Prime had said it, so Rodimus was fairly confident he knew just what Optimus was upset about. 

“My half of the Matrix. It shattered when I deactivated Tyrest’s killswitch. Frankly, it wasn’t that robust.” Rodimus argued, Optimus slumping into a chair and giving him a further look of disbelief. 

“For the love of Primus, mech, have some respect.” Optimus scolded, making Rodimus feel like he was about three inches tall. “Your half of the Matrix contained the map to Cyberutopia.”

Even with the battle mask on, Optimus opened like a book for him. Rodimus could almost see the glyphs hanging over Prime’s head. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’ ‘You’re a disgrace.’ ‘How could you do this, Hot Rod?’

“I saved people.” It sounded weak and Rodimus wished he could take it back as soon as the words escaped him. “Would you rather I leave them to die at the hands of another tyrant next time?”

Optimus’ field contracted. His optics went cold and he froze in place, looking up at Rodimus in silence. The younger mech could practically taste the anger rolling off of him. 

“Is the Matrix more important than the lives of your friends? Your allies? Your precious family?” Rodimus spat, knowing it was too far and not caring right now. 

“Your insolence is unfathomable.” Optimus growled, voice so low it could be felt more than heard. “You selfish, horrid little sparkling.” Now the Prime was standing, towering over him and trembling with rage. “Get on your knees.” 

Learning his lesson, even the hard way, was never Rodimus’ strong point. He lifted his chin and bared his denta, looking Optimus right in the optic. He opened his mouth to speak, then Optimus’ battle mask retracted, a large hand wrapped itself around the back of his neck and he was being crushed against the Prime’s broad chest and silenced very handily. 

Fragging was one thing. It had been good. Maybe even one of the best encounters he’d ever had. But this? The kissing thing? This was definitely something he had daydreamed about. Optimus tasted like fresh Energon, his mouth was hot and his glossa was aggressive. His hand kept Rodimus from pulling away from him, the other cupping his aft and squeezing. 

Optimus was the one to break it, Rodimus struggling to keep his venting under control. “Show me your spark.” The Prime demanded, Rodimus looking up at him sharply. 

“Why?” He asked, Optimus narrowing his optics. 

“Because I want to see it.” Was the Prime’s answer, and Rodimus rolled his optics before hesitantly complying. As his chest plates slid back, he heard Optimus’ cooling fans kick up a speed before being subdued. “As I thought.”

“You thought what?” Rodimus felt his faceplates heat and Optimus met his optics. 

“You’re plain. Ordinary.” Optimus shoved him a step back. “Now get on your knees.” 

“There is nothing ordinary about me.” Rodimus hissed, slamming his chest plates closed. 

“Get on your knees!” Optimus shouted. “I will not tell you again!” 

Rodimus stepped forward again, both servos pressing palm flat against the larger mech’s chest. He leaned in and ran his glossa over Prime’s autobrand, his servos trailing over the length of his torso. He dug digits into Optimus’ grill, supporting himself as he began to sink onto his knees. 

There was no stopping the cooling fans this time. Rodimus heard them roar as he trailed wet kisses down the center of Prime’s frame, his optics dim as he looked up. “There.” He said in a husky voice. “Kneeling.” 

“I guess I need to figure out other ways to shut your arrogant mouth.” Optimus growled, narrowing his optics again. “You’re the only mech I know who asks for as much trouble as Starscream seems to.” 

“Maybe I ought to have sharpened my denta like him too. Might have made this a bit more interesting.” Rodimus muttered with his mouth pressed flush to Optimus’ closed interface panal. 

“Why don’t you make yourself useful?” The panal retracted and Rodimus had to lean back to avoid the massive spike that surged forth. Apparently, seeing it and having it in you were two very different things, and he couldn’t stop myself from staring with wide optics. “I’m sure you know what to do.” 

As Rodimus took the spike in servo and licked his way up its length, Optimus reached down and curled his digits around the top of the younger mech’s helm. Rodimus felt himself get jerked foward, Optimus’ spike forced into his mouth, but he figured he may have earned the rough treatment with his attitude. He gagged at first, but managed to relax his intake enough to keep from embarrassing them both. 

“You have until I tell you to stop to prepare yourself, Rodimus.” Optimus rumbled. “If you’re not ready for me, you have no one to blame but yourself.” 

Withdrawing, Rodimus kept one servo firmly circled around the base of Optimus’ spike. His other servo reached between his own legs, and once he retracted his panal, he began rubbing his anterior node with two fingers. It wasn’t easy to focus on both tasks at once... Optimus would squeeze the back of his neck or grip the top of his helm if he wasn’t paying enough attention as he sucked and licked and bobbed. He found he had to lean forward to reach his fingers far enough into his valve to stretch himself, which forced the massive spike he was sucking further down his intake. 

Optimus was venting hard, his EM field roiling with arousal and anger and already tinged with regret. Worried that he would just push his release and call this off, doing that apologizing thing again, Rodimus growled and bit him. 

It wasn’t hard enough to do any damage, but it surprised a yelp out of the Prime. “Watch it.” Optimus said in a warning tone, and now the regret was retreating from his field. “You must be ready for me by now...”

Rodimus took Optimus to the back of his intake and arched a brow, swallowing around him and lashing his glossa against him. 

Bracing a hand on the top of Rodimus’ helm again, Optimus pulled away. Rodimus’ jaw was happy to be relieved of such a burden, but he had hardly any time to dwell on this. Optimus roughly manuvered him onto his face on the floor, jerking his aft into the air. 

Rodimus slammed his fist into the floor as Optimus entered him, the stretch far more pronounced and painful than their last intimate encounter. He was good and wet, and he had done his best to make sure Optimus’ spike was slick, but it was still a bit tighter than he would have liked. 

Optimus closed his servo over Rodimus’ wrists, pinning them to the floor. His other servo gripped the younger mech’s hip, and after a few slow thrusts to get used to the tightness of Rodimus’ valve, he set a brisk pace. 

“H-haah!!” Rodimus tried to quiet himself by sinking denta into his arm, his optics offline. His audials filled with Optimus’ grunts of effort, the scrape of their knees against the floor. He could feel Prime’s vents working hard to dump the heat building up in his frame, he could hear the larger mech’s cooling fans screaming. 

“Do you still ache for me, Rodimus?” Optimus panted, and Rodimus answered him by pushing his hips back firmly and clenching both his hands into fists. “Is this enough? Do you want more?” His tone wasn’t kind. It was enfuriatingly condescending, as if he were speaking to a child. 

“Kn-knew this couldn’t be the best you’ve got.” Rodimus groaned in reply, Optimus making a disgusted noise and pulling free. He flipped the flame colored mech onto his back, secured his wrists above his head and positioned his spike for reentry. “Come on, Optimus... frag me like you mean it.” 

“Why am I even giving you what you want?” Optimus growled, sinking denta into a neck cable sharply. Rodimus bucked with a short cry, charge rippling over his frame. “Maybe I ought to leave you like this. Leave you a prisoner of your own charge. Walk away and never look back.” 

“Then you would be the one aching.” Rodimus murmured, arching his frame up against Optimus’. “And you’d miss me when you’re gone.”

“You really do talk too much.” Optimus’ mouth curled in disgust and he leaned down to close it over Rodimus’ again with a good deal of force. He pushed his spike into the smaller frame beneath him, grabbing one of Rodimus’ legs and jerking him open a touch to get deeper. 

He moved hard, vents pushing out super heated air and fans working desperately to cool him. Rodimus bucked and squirmed, forcing Optimus to press him more firmly into the floor to keep him still. 

“Ah f-frag... Optimus! I w-want this...” Rodimus gasped, and Optimus pressed his mouth against the younger mech’s shoulder to smother his groan. “I want it h-hard! I... I-I-”

Optimus let go of Rodimus’ wrists and pushed himself up on his elbows. He rolled his hips into Rodimus’, but didn’t move any faster or deeper than before. He was smiling, but there was nothing sweet about it. 

“P-please! I want it!” Reduced to begging and unabashed, Rodimus shook his helm from side to side. The slow pace was agonizing. 

“I believe there’s an Earth song that would fit this situation nicely.” Optimus rumbled, still smiling. “You can’t always get what you want.” He leaned down and began biting and sucking on the cables of Rodimus’ neck, keeping the younger mech’s hips pressed down and rocking into him without any sense of urgency. 

“Optimus!” Rodimus whined, unable to work his hands between their frames for any sort of self servicing to hurry this along. His charge had climbed to uncomfortable heights. “Y-you gotta be about to blow! Just... just push already!” 

“Rodimus? Shut up.” Optimus demanded, grinding into the smaller frame before resuming his thrusting. He tensed after another moment or so, and Rodimus let out a sound of mortification when he realized the Prime had just overloaded, as quietly as he had the first time. “Better.” Optimus grunted, withdrawing and leaving Rodimus to stare up at him in betrayal. 

“Wh... what about me?” The younger mech demanded, trying to sit up. “I didn’t f-finish!”

“You’re a big mech.” Optimus regarded him with dark optics. “You deal with it.” 

With a sound of distress, Rodimus rolled away from him. He could deal with the humiliation later, right now he just wanted release! He folded back his chest plates and reached a hand between his legs again. His anterior was swollen and slippery, overly sensitive, and his spark casing was hot with charge. Rubbing both brought him a mediocre but freeing overload, and he could feel guilty amusement in Optimus’ field when he came down from it. 

“You’re a real piece of slag sometimes, Rodimus.” Optimus said, Rodimus glaring over at him. “You deserved that. Do yourself and everyone else a favor... work on your timing.” 

“Get fragged.” Rodimus felt his face burning with embarrassment, and he began trying to clean himself up. 

“You don’t have to push me to this. You’re pretty good. I’d like to not feel like a horrible person afterwards. Why don’t we try this like normal mechs sometime?” Optimus still sounded amused, and a little sheepish. 

“Yeah, right.” Rodimus searched for a cloth of some sort, pausing when Optimus held one out to him. He took it begrudgingly, and was startled when Optimus suddenly reached down and pulled him into a hug. 

“I mean it. Please... don’t push me to this again. I don’t want to be this person you bring out in me.” Optimus’ voice was soft, and Rodimus shivered lightly in his arms. 

“It feels like a ‘too little, too late’ sort of situation if you’re trying to tell me you want me now.” He mumbled, Optimus’ field swirling around him. Reassurance, pleading, guilt, apology... Rodimus glanced up at the Prime again and frowned. “I don’t need you anymore. Not like I did.” 

“You’ve grown up a lot.” Optimus rumbled. 

“I needed you then, back when I... when I came begging, as you put it.” Rodimus lowered his optics. “I needed you, Optimus!”

“I’m not sure you needed from me what you thought you did. You were grieving. Giving in to you wouldn’t have helped you heal, it would have just distracted you from growing stronger.” It was a horribly Optimus Prime thing to say, and while part of Rodimus figured he was right, a different part (the humilated part) didn’t care to admit it. “I regret my actions, but I don’t regret being with you. I think we can both do better than this.” 

“What if I still want you to take me like that?” Rodimus swiped at himself with the cloth in agitation. 

“We can work that out next time.” Optimus made it sound like a promise, and Rodimus huffed in defeat. 

Next time. Well, at least there was the possibility of a next time. 

“Yeah, whatever.” He said petulantly, and Optimus patted his shoulder in an amiable fashion. At least this day couldn’t get any worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr! I post mostly fandom stuff, food, cats and pretty nature pictures.
> 
> http://www.drazyrohk.tumblr.com/


End file.
